Help. I love my granny.
Help! What has come over me? Today I could not mow the lawn. My third leg kept throbbing in my jeans - poking restlessly against the zipper. It made me feel like 19 again and I am twice that age by all regards. I tried pushing the lawn mower across the yard a few times and then gave up. Any form of movement causes a pining ache below the waistline and my little one seems to have developed a mind of its own since mid-morning.
Help! I saw my grandma's breadcake today. I burst into the bathroom this morning, raging for a pee and there she was – bent over the bath tub, her plump scrumptious behind facing the entrance, its essence streaming towards me. Well yes I could smell it and I swear I could taste it too. Its promise still haunts me, every moment in many ways. And it simply makes we want to do her.
And do her I will. Today!
I have a plan already. And it is simple. Deceptively and misleadingly simple. I will go up to her tonight and ask her directly if she will sleep with me. I will tell her of all my fantasies today and since. I will tell her how attractive she is and let her know how she enthrals me. How she beguiles me.
Am I hooked? Well that cameltoe is the best I have ever seen. And I want it. I want it all. I want to taste it. I want to smell it. I want to feel it every which way. Not in some superficial imaginative fantastical way but in an elementary and fundamental way. My grandma is 67 and is in many ways the ideal grandma. She gets me presents at my birthday and at Christmas. She lets me stay up late and gives me more pocket money than is good for me. She might be an ideal grandma but I want her still. I want to kiss her venus mound and delve into her insides. And discover her quintessence and feel and unite with her pulse.
